To Wolf’s Flesh, Dog’s Teeth
by run.dog.run
Summary: Kiba and Shikamaru move beyond the boundaries of their friendship, and test the limits of their relationship. Something less than love, and more than fondness grows in their company. KibaShika
1. What is a dog but a domesticated wolf?

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Naruto or anything pertaining to the manga or anime. The characters, places, etc… are not mine, nor do I lay any claim on them. This is not an attempt to infringe on any rights or copyrights, as this is purely for entertainment.

Authors Note: Excuse the arrangement and description of various homes and etc. I have no idea what Kiba's house and backyard look like, nor do I know where in Konoha it is located. If, by chance, somewhere in the back of my mind, I do know, from manga or anime, I've forgotten it.

Everything else, by way of affiliation, or job (such as promotions, joining Oinin, etc..) is pretty much entirely invented. Consider this Naruto future in an alternate universe.

Also note, I'm sure the characters are totally out of character. I've no grasp of personality. I apologize.

Title: 'To Wolf's Flesh, Dog's Teeth'

Author: run dog run

Series: Naruto

Characters/Pairings: Inuzuka Kiba, Nara Shikamaru / KibaShika (Kiba x Shikamaru)

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To Wolf's Flesh, Dog's Teeth 

_"Last night, I dreamed that I was chasing a pack of wolves, trying to belong."_

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Chapter 1: What is a dog but a domesticated wolf?

Autumn had, with its soft whispers, set sleep upon the trees; their leaves drying like paint, nature's pallet of color changing to suit the mood of slumber. The whitewashed sky, swathed with thread-bare linen and thin cotton clouds, was devoid of the bright colors of warmers seasons, and the sun, small and distant, strained just above the horizon. Shikamaru lay on his roof, eyes half lidded, watching the red-gold orb of the sun sink below the edge of trees that surrounded Konoha.

The wind, growing chill in honor of the season, brought the scent of the forest with it; moist and earthy, the smell of decaying flora rich, and almost sweet. Head loose of profound thought, Shikamaru contented himself with idle reflection. Musing, he decided, was something he would never tire of, something that lended its careless nature to balance the stress that life seemed to bring with each new day. Life, it seemed, preferred spontaneity and activity and constant tending, to the ease of peace and stillness and blessed moments of undisturbed languor. How most of the world could so easily dismiss such a divine pass-time, he could not fathom.

His calm was disturbed by the soft rhythm of footsteps, a quiet progression that led someone to his side. He did not greet his guest; instead, he lay still, aware but uninterested. The soft rush of cloth whispered of movement, and the subtle vibration in the surface beneath made evident that the guest had decided to sit. Drawing one dark eye open, Shikamaru rolled his head to the side, only mildly curious as to whom his companion might be. Shaggy brown hair, dark with moisture, hung before two feral eyes, slitted pupils gazing back intensely. Shikamaru knitted his brows and pushed himself up, elbows resting on the rough surface of the roof tiles.

"Ah, so you're not asleep." Voice even, Kiba raised one eyebrow; both disdain and mild surprise in evidence.

"It wasn't far off." Shikamaru frowned.

"Good thing I came by when I did, then." A soft laugh of self satisfied amusement slipped from Kiba's throat. Shikamaru narrowed his eyes. "You waste too much time dreaming."

"You waste too much time talking." Kiba grinned, lopsided smile revealing one sharp fang, giving a ferine quality to the gesture.

"What are you doing up here, anyway?" Kiba glanced around, eyes sweeping the tree line boredly. Shikamaru lay back on the roof, arms folded behind his head.

"Watching the sky." Head turned toward the sky, Kiba leaned back on his hands, his arms stretched behind him to support his recline.

"For what, exactly?" Brow furrowed at the darkening heavens, Kiba searched for whatever it was that might have captured Shikamaru's interest.

"Idiot." Shikamaru sighed. "Nothing, I'm just watching." A soft bark of contemptuous laughter followed Shikamaru's words.

"You're just lazy." Shikamaru attempted a shrug.

"Ah." Kiba glanced speculatively over at Shikamaru; the latter's eyes slipping closed once more.

"You're even too lazy to argue with me." Kiba sighed. "But then, you've always been like this… I don't know why I keep thinking you might change."

"You haven't changed much either." Shikamaru peeled one eye open to glance at Kiba, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"If by that, you mean I'm still the adventurous, energetic, and has-better-things-to-do-than-lie-around-dreaming, guy I've always been, then you're right." Kiba leaned over to grin at the prostrate 'dreamer'.

"What I meant was, you're still obnoxious and bothersome… and loud." It was Kiba's turn to shrug.

"If I am really such a pain in the ass, you could always tell me to fuck off, or you could find a better hiding place." Shikamaru raised his eyebrows, pretended to contemplate the possibilities. Kiba used his foot to kick Shikamaru's leg; a friendly reprimand for the false consideration.

"That takes too much effort." Kiba laughed, nodding to himself.

"I figured. And besides, then what would you have to whine about?" Pause. "Oh wait, I take that back. You have an uncanny talent for finding things to complain about." Shikamaru watched Kiba's animated conversation with mild interest; the feral boy talking with gestures as much as with his voice. "It's like a sixth sense." Kiba pulled his knees to his chest, crossed his arms over them and rested his chin there.

"You know, if I am really such a pain in the ass…" Shikamaru was interrupted as he began to speak. Kiba turned his head toward Shikamaru, eyes fierce, yet amused, halting Shikamaru mid-quote.

"Exactly. Too lazy to even think for yourself." Kiba sighed and flopped back ungracefully onto the roof, his shoulder blades striking the roof with a soft thud. "And I never said it bothered me." Kiba opened his mouth in a yawn. "You've taught me a valuable skill. According to my sister, I'm not some cute kid anymore, so I had to come up with another way to get what I want from her… she's got a very low tolerance for whining, so she usually caves." Kiba grinned up at the sky.

"I'm glad I was of some use." Shikamaru's sarcasm only earned another laugh.

"So, you been lying up here all day?" Shikamaru frowned, thinking.

"Since I finished my errands. The Hokage had me tied up with troublesome matters most of the day." Sitting up, Shikamaru scratched at the side of his head, thinking. "I suppose I've been here since just after four." Kiba lifted himself from the roof as well, propping himself up on his hands again.

"The sun's almost set, it's nearly seven…!" Shikamaru stared at Kiba blankly. "You've been up here for almost three hours." Kiba's brows were knitted together, face plainly displaying mild incredulousness.

"Ah." Shikamaru shrugged.

"You need a fucking hobby." Kiba rolled his eyes.

Companionable silence fell as the sun dipped below the horizon, the red glow barely peeking over the edge of the earth. Overhead, stars winked with pale light, dulled only by the closer brightness of the streets below, awash with lamplight that flooded into the street from shops and windows. Kiba shifted restlessly, as if anxious to move; the idleness wearing on him. Standing, he stretched his back, the bones cracking, releasing stress built in inactivity. Shikamaru glanced up at the bent form of his friend, and, not for the first time in his eighteen years, studied Kiba's shadowed figure.

The years, Shikamaru noticed, had been kind to the other boy; drawing fine lines of maturity into his face, and etching age into the feral boy with delicate strokes. It left Kiba with a youthful quality that, no doubt, would shadow him his entire life. His body had grown tall, and lithe, and he was muscled like an animal; lean and wiry like a hunter, with obvious strength. His eyes, bright and intelligent, spoke of the wild and spontaneous quality that was as much a part of him as of any wolf or wild predator. His hair had changed little, still an untamed mess of brown; strands hanging over his forehead to obscure his eyes and lend a sadistic quality to his darker expressions.

Rising to stand beside his friend, Shikamaru measured himself against Kiba. The fanged boy stood nearly three inches taller; his shoulders broader, build more defined. Glancing down at his own form, Shikamaru noticed the thinness of his own frame and frowned. The difference was not overly obvious, both of them being slim, however, to Shikamaru, it seemed to lend credence to Kiba's opinion on sedentary lifestyles. Shikamaru ran his hand through his unbound hair, pushing it back from his face, and tied it off in a tight, though slightly messy, ponytail.

"Shit!" Kiba's curse drew Shikamaru from his reflection. "My sister is gonna beat my ass. It's my night to tend the dogs." Kiba sighed and leaned over to look Shikamaru in the face, eyes narrowed in false annoyance. "I blame you. I'm late because you drew me into your web of laziness." The harsh nature of the words was contradicted by the grin that tilted Kiba's mouth. Arms tucked in and hands in pockets, Kiba leaned back, head tilted toward the stars. "You're a bad influence. I need to stop hanging out with lazy jerks like you."

"I've said as much…" Shikamaru raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kiba's profile.

"Well, whatever." Kiba turned his head, eyes meeting the shorter boys. "You wanna come with me?" Shikamaru felt Kiba's elbow nudge his ribs just before the taller boy turned to walk to the edge of the roof.

"I have some things…" Kiba snorted, interrupting the words.

"Like what? Lay up here and do noting for another three hours?" Shikamaru frowned. "Come on, it's not like it's gonna kill you to come watch me feed some damn dogs." Kiba stepped off the roof, an almost inaudible thud sounding as his feet touched earth.

A sigh of resignation escaped Shikamaru's lips as he stepped to the edge of the rooftop. He crouched low, one hand on the tiles, then dropped from the roof, landing noiselessly on the ground beside Kiba. The feral boy grinned his approval, raising one eyebrow in satisfaction before his fingers wrapped about Shikamaru's elbow, intent on dragging him if need be. Shikamaru allowed himself to be towed along, accustomed to the overanxious boy.

The streets were still busy; shopkeepers still peddling to customers, eateries still serving food to the late dinner crowd. Leaves littered the ground beneath their feet, crunching dully as they walked, the colors of autumn mixing and melting together to decorate Konoha in all the dressings of the early season. The activity wore away the further they got from the inner city, crowds thinning, shops fewer and farther between. Kiba's house edged the busier parts of Konoha, backed against trees and neighbored to a broad field. The light in the street grew dimmer until the two were walking in relative dark, the glow from houses along the way cast pale patches onto the ground; Shikamaru counted them as they passed.

The night's quiet was broken, suddenly, by thin and ethereal howls echoing through the night. Shikamaru shuddered inwardly, the sound sending shivers through his bones. The feral song seemed at once intimidating, and mournful; Shikamaru found himself unsure if the creatures calling into the night were Kiba's dogs, or wolves deep in the forest, trailing some unfortunate creature. Kiba's fingers tightened on Shikamaru's elbow as the sounds grew, the tense energy in the fanged boy bleeding through with the gesture. Shikamaru's eyes found Kiba's profile in the dimness, caught on the glint of white teeth, the sparkle that was, even in darkness, evident in the slitted eyes.

"They're calling me." His words were quiet, as if Kiba were entranced, caught up in the otherworldly mood. "They're pissed 'cause I'm late." Kiba's laugh broke the moment, diminishing the haunting air. Shikamaru frowned, pulled his elbow free from Kiba's grasp; albeit belatedly. Kiba looked over, eyes finding, first, his own hand, now empty, and then Shikamaru. One fine eyebrow arched in mockery. "What?"

"Nothing." Eyes deliberately forward, Shikamaru tucked his hands into his pockets and allowed the gap between him and Kiba to widen.

"All of the sudden you don't want to be too close to me, eh…?" Kiba sniffed the air. "I don't stink… just took a bath." A lopsided grin split his face. Shikamaru was reminded of the 'big bad wolf' of fairy tales. "So, either I creeped you out… or all this sexual tension is getting to you." Kiba's voice was low, suggestive. Shikamaru frowned at the taller boy.

"You have a very strange sense of humor, Kiba." A sigh punctuated Shikamaru's words.

"Yeah, well… strange is better than none." Shrugging, Kiba led them both toward the Inuzuka home.

The house was dark, only one light at the back of the house cast illumination into the darkness of the yard. The quiet, ominous growl of the Inuzuka dogs rumbled in a chorus, tumbling like a fog to overlay the entirety of the place. Shikamaru glanced about nervously, wary of teeth and claws. Kiba, at ease, stepped around Shikamaru's lingering form and slid the front door open, disappearing into the darkness. From inside, Kiba's deep voice seemed to mingle with the growls, his words too quiet to hear as he conversed with the dogs. Shikamaru frowned, straining to make out what was being said.

Kiba returned moments later, arms weighed down with what Shikamaru was sure could only be the meat the Inuzuka clan fed the strange Nin-dog's. The feral boy emerged from the dimness of the house, gracefully balancing his own weight and that of his load, and wandered around the side of the house, Shikamaru in tow. The house, Shikamaru had found before, was much larger than it had first appeared; extending back by many rooms, large in part because of the meager wealth the Inuzuka's held claim to, and part to house the many dogs they shared residence with.

The back porch was littered with the lounging bodies of fierce dogs; large and battle scarred canine's that seemed, to Shikamaru, to look more like wolves. The backyard sloped downward at an angle, giving rise to a rather large porch that jutted from the back of the house. The veranda dropped off to a rather well kept garden, a large spring bubbling with water spread across the center, leading up to the edge of the terrace. Despite the many dog's, the entire grounds were as well kept as any respectable household. Kiba climbed the stairs effortlessly, his boots echoing against the steps. He was greeted with vicious growls and unsettling barks. Shikamaru could feel the hair at the back of his neck standing on end, the sounds disquieting; Kiba merely laughed or returned the fire with a fierceness of his own.

"Damn dogs." Kiba spat the words as he flung the meat at the dogs unceremoniously. Large, sharp teeth snatched at the food, greed and hostility driving their predatory voices up in volume as they tore into the meal. Kiba growled back at them, his voice rumbling in a perfect mimic. "I already said I was sorry! I'm not _that_ fucking late you ungrateful beasts!" He turned to grin at Shikamaru, teeth flashing in an amused parody of the angry nin-dog's.

"Aren't you worried that mocking them will make them angry?" Shikamaru cleared his throat.

"Nah, their bark is worse than their bite." To make a point, Kiba reached down to pet one of the large dogs, tousling the fur about its head roughly. A fierce growl was the only forewarning to the flash of teeth; the great dog's lips curled back to show large fangs, dripping with saliva and the dark blood of the fresh meat Kiba had served. Kiba's hand darted away as jaws snapped closed loudly on air; laughing amusedly as he swiftly reached to tug roughly on the dog's ear in reprimand. "See?"

"Of course… they don't look angry at all." Voice dripping with sarcasm, Shikamaru took a step back, leaning against the side of the house; more wary of the dog's he'd yet to see, than the ferocious animals noisily wolfing their food on the porch. "Where is Akamaru?"

"Oh, him? He's inside, ruining the carpet with his dinner." Kiba shrugged. "These guys don't like to eat inside… say it's unnatural for a dog to eat indoors like a human." The feral boy swatted at another of the dogs for snapping at him. "Something about weakness or fear, hiding in the den like scared cubs. I guess it makes them feel more important, eating out here under the sky, like pack, having to protect their food from any animal stupid enough to try and steal it." Kiba grinned.

"What are you feeding them?" Shikamaru squinted at the large chunks of meet the dogs were worrying into shreds. Kiba's face took on an apologetic cast.

"You don't wanna know, trust me." Shikamaru frowned. "I'll be right back. Gotta wash up!" Kiba held his hands up before him; they were covered in smears of blood. He cast Shikamaru a lopsided grin before ducking into the back door, leaving the dark haired boy alone with the dogs.

The sound of snarling dogs seemed to drive into Shikamaru's ears, the low whine like an engine, throttling and ebbing away into a sound more unsettling than the louder, more obvious warnings. The eyes of the dogs lingered on his form, glances cutting and full of mistrust; intimidating. Shikamaru tried to remain unmoved, to appear unintimidated and uninterested, but the nervous energy that flowed through him seemed to bleed from him like from a wound; the dogs, he knew, could pick it up like the strong, fresh scent of prey. It seemed, to Shikamaru, that they enjoyed his unease.

The dogs on the porch suddenly grew restless, the chorus of their voices growing louder and more urgent. Shikamaru tensed as one of the larger dogs rose, eyes seeming to stare through him. From behind him, Shikamaru could hear an echo of movement, and suddenly, his senses perked, picking up a presence, strong chakra flowing in untamed pulses; negative energy full of threat and hostility. He knew instantly that it was another dog, the territorial feel of the presence resembled that of the nin-dog's on the porch, but the power was much stronger, much more menacing. Shikamaru turned slowly, hoping to appear unthreatening, yet building his chakra to defend himself if he had to. Having long since mastered many useful Jutsu, Shikamaru knew he could at least hold off the dog until Kiba returned.

The large hulking form was closer than Shikamaru had expected, having moved more swiftly, more silently, than seemed natural, and less than a meter separated human from beast. The gap closed slowly as the nin-dog moved closer, eyes narrowing, lips drawing back with each slow step. Bursts of carrion scented breath puffed against his face, foul and hot against his skin. The dog was large, much larger than the others. His fur was bristled, hackles up, and he was poised to attack; eyes more fierce for the glowing reflection of the dim light, seemingly full of murderous intent. Shikamaru froze, eyes locked with that of the Inuzuka's alpha male, Kuromaru. The dog pulled its lips back into a snarl, teeth dripping saliva, eyes narrowed; stretching the scar that sliced across one cloudy blind eye. A second fierce snarl sent flecks of spit across Shikamaru's face.

Before Shikamaru could react, the chorus of growls was joined by another; a more human growl. Kiba leapt softly to the ground, one hand bracing against the soft earth as he landed, his eyes never leaving that of the Alpha male. His movements were slow, deliberate, and challenging. Kuromaru jerked his neck in an answering snarl, head tilting to the side, light glinting off of the wetness of his mouth. Kiba continued forward, undaunted by the vicious dog. He stepped closer to Shikamaru, his stance nearly as threatening as the nin-dog's own. His fingers wound tightly around Shikamaru's arm, the grip digging into the shorter boys flesh. The dog, in more of a gesture than a threat, snapped at Shikamaru; Kiba reacted swiftly, forcing himself between the two with uncanny speed, his eyes boring into Kuromaru's. Shikamaru felt himself pulled backward, arm still in Kiba's tight grip.

"Mine!" The growl of Kiba's voice was impossibly fierce; possessive. Shikamaru shuddered; Kiba, he thought, was more like the beasts than he had realized.

The dog growled in response, snarling its contempt; challenging Kiba's authority. The feral boy did not back down; instead he pushed ahead, a threat of his own bubbling from his chest in a rough parody of the dog's growl. He forced the larger dog to take a step backward, a reluctant move. The nin-dog's hesitation served only to draw a depraved grin across Kiba's features, a smile that held nothing of amusement. Kuromaru lowered himself to the ground, eyes cutting as he stared up at Kiba, anger outplaying the dog's tentative submission. Drawing up to his full size, the dog snapped once, head swinging sideways as a malevolent sound escaped its throat, before turning to the side; the beast made a wide half-circle around Kiba, drawing closer to the terrace as he moved. Kuromaru leapt to the porch, paws thudding loudly onto the wood, and took out his lingering anger on the other nin-dog's; snapping and biting as he made his way across the porch to the large and untouched hunk of fresh meat that was his dinner.

Shikamaru drew a long breath; a deep intake of air that shuddered as it escaped his chest. Kiba turned to glare at the dogs on the porch, eyes narrow slits. When he finally turned to face Shikamaru, the feral boy's face held nothing of the ferocity it had only a moment before. His smile bright, Kiba slung a friendly arm over the dark haired boy's shoulders, nudged his face up close; his fist pressed to Shikamaru's collarbone.

"Just gotta let them know who the boss is." Shikamaru knitted his brow, a look of disbelief written across his face. "Ah, don't mind him," Kiba pointed at the large dog with his chin. "he thinks he's Inuzuka royalty, but he's just an old mutt." Kiba's laugh was greeted with a menacing bark, which only made him laugh again. "Kuromaru, your time's almost up, you mangy old wolf!"

"You could have warned me…" Shikamaru calmed himself, shoved his hands into his pockets and slumped his shoulders, annoyed and slightly embarrassed.

"Probably…" Slitted eyes narrowed slightly. "But where's the fun in that?"

"Fun?" Shikamaru lowered his voice. "He could have killed me." Kiba laughed, a short bark, dismissing the possibility.

"I doubt that, you're not some weak little Gennin." The compliment went unnoticed. "Besides, he knows you aren't an enemy… he wouldn't have killed you." A devious grin cocked one side of Kiba's mouth. "He just didn't know who you belonged to."

"Belonged to?" Shikamaru frowned, confused.

"Yeah. It's a pack thing. They're very territorial." The grip tightened. "Don't worry, he won't bother you anymore… now he knows your mine." Shikamaru glanced up at Kiba, wary. Kiba smiled innocently back at the shorter boy, seemingly oblivious to the connotation of his words. Shikamaru frowned, suddenly uncomfortable; all too aware of the possessive grasp Kiba had on him. "So, where to now?"

"Home." Shikamaru glanced down at Kiba's hand, reached up slowly and wrapped his fingers around the taller boy's wrist, lifting it from around his shoulders. Kiba let his arm fall to his side.

"It's still early." It wasn't quite a complaint.

"I'm tired." Shikamaru allowed his annoyance to mix with the words.

"After all that, you're gonna leave me here with nothing but these filthy dogs for company?" The feral teen raised an eyebrow in question.

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes and snorted derisively, and then turned to walk away. Kiba folded his arms across his chest, watched the dark haired boy disappear around the edge of the house.

"Alright, alright… fine!" Kiba's voice carried in the quiet. "Just don't come crying to me 'cause you laid awake all night thinking about me!" Kiba's laughter echoed through the dark, the teasing sarcasm reminiscent of his earlier joke. Shikamaru frowned, his face tightening in irritation.

"Idiot." Shikamaru spoke the word quietly to himself, content in his mild insult, as he made his way home.


	2. He that makes himself prey

Authors Note: Yay. Another crap chapter of out-of-character nonsense, poorly plotted garbage, and ostentatious bullshit rambling.

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_"Last night, I dreamed that I was chasing a pack of wolves, trying to belong."_

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Chapter 2: He that makes himself prey shall be eaten by the wolf.

The morning sun was pale, the light an odd white against a rainy backdrop; the air, moist, and almost too warm for the season. A hazy veil of fog rolled along the ground in thin patches, catching the weak mist of rain; a drizzle that seemed nearly as thin as the air it self. A breeze tumbled soggy leaves across the ground, whipped them into forceless whirls that sent them spinning, for short moments, before the damp leaves stuck themselves more firmly to the sodden earth. Kiba bent down to brush one of the damp leaves from his ankle; watched it land in a rain-river on the pavement and sail away down the sloping street as if tugged by an ocean tide.

The wet weather seemed to follow him, blowing in just ahead of his return, welcoming him with its clammy fingers. It seemed to carry with it, also, the apprehension, the tense feel, that had haunted Kiba through the entirety of the mission. Glancing around, he searched for the masked faces of the Oinin; the familiar ghostly features of his fellow hunters, the empty eyes staring out with emotionless intensity, the thin forms that would disappear into the shadows as quickly as they appeared. He caught no glimpses of them.

It had been nearly a year since he had joined the ranks of the Oinin, and still, the missions haunted him. The animal in him, the wolf, reveled in the hunt; the thrill of the chase pumped adrenaline through his body, the victory of the kill drew on his animal nature. For those very reasons, Kiba had chosen to train under the Oinin, hoping to hone his already exceptional tracking skills, to master the hunt with the masked Shinobi. Always, though, the feeling faded, replaced itself with a more somber air that clouded his emotion, drew him into the same quiet that seemed to affect both the other Oinin, and the Anbu alike. He blamed the birds; the crows summoned to feast on the headless corpse of the traitor. The winged creatures filled the sky like a dark cloud, the shadowy mass pushing across the horizon and drawing closer, only to separate into a plague of screeching blackbirds that would descend to tear and rip at the flesh of the Nukenin. The sight of the birds always brought him rushing back to humanity. Sighing, Kiba wiped at his face with his hand, smearing the wet of the rain over his skin, and pushed the dismal thoughts to the back of his mind.

Akamaru strode up to Kiba's side; his large form hunkered low, trying to stay below the ruffling wind. Kiba ran his hand over the dog's whipped and messy fur, attempting to smooth the ruffled hide. Glancing at the sky, Kiba squinted his eyes, slitted pupils narrowed against the pale white of the heavens. He watched the rain fall, blinking as the mist fell against his face. The call of a bird overhead distracted him a moment, calling his attention from the rain. Kiba frowned at the distant smear of the raven. At his side, Akamaru growled excitedly at the cawing; welcoming the possibility of a hunt in the dim morning. Kiba patted Akamaru again, shaking his head.

"Not today, friend." Akamaru whined lightly, the high pitched whistle slightly disappointed.

The streets were nearly empty, the few people that rushed about were swathed in raincoats or clutching umbrella's as they hurried to their destination. Kiba took his time, unmindful of the way his clothes grew damp, stuck to his frame with moisture. It was days like this, he thought, that he most enjoyed; the onset of cooler seasons still holding tightly to the last of the warmth, thin spray of rain making the colors deeper even as it washed much of the vibrance away in the wetness. Sighing, Kiba forced himself to walk a bit quicker, his footsteps tapping softly against the street, small puddles splashing as he broke their surface with his footfall.

Familiar faces smiled at him as he passed; Ino, Tenten, he returned a wave to a rushing Naruto, exchanged a few words with Lee and Sakura, on their way to Hospital to visit Gai, who'd only just returned from a mission with Neji. The teams, though still close, had spread out over the years, separated into gatherings and friendships that were formed outside the units. Kiba himself had grown distant from Shino, their interests and personalities far too different for a more solid friendship; however, he'd remained very close with Hinata. Kiba wondered, idly, where Hinata was hiding, if she had been sent on a mission of her own; it was rare she was not more than two steps behind Naruto. Chouji and Shikamaru were still found in each other's company, their friendship unchanged. As for himself, he found more time alone than with friends, despite his gregarious personality, and on the occasions when he was sociable, it was usually in the company of Naruto and Hinata, or Shikamaru and Chouji.

"You're unusually subdued this morning." Kiba smiled at the sound of the voice, slowed his steps to allow the other to catch up with him.

"Just tired, that's all." Shikamaru nodded in response, falling into step beside Kiba. "It's been a long few days." Kiba sighed exaggeratedly and reached up to shake some of the water out of his hair, using his fingers like a comb to roughly muss the limp strands. "What are you doing out in the rain?" Shikamaru held out his hand, palm toward the sky, and frowned.

"It's not raining." Kiba glanced to the side, studied the shorter boy's profile with sleepy eyes.

"Close enough." He shrugged, too tired to argue technicalities.

The wind pushed at Kiba's back, forcing damp strands of hair into his face; he ignored them, eyes lingering on the dark haired boy to his side. Shikamaru walked with his hands tucked deeply into his pockets, shoulders slumped back, spine bent lazily. Shikamaru, Kiba noticed, seemed closed off, introverted; a stark contrast to his own genial personality. Idly, he wondered at the friendship that had grown between them; how such an amiable companionship had developed among personalities that otherwise seemed to clash. Shrugging to himself, Kiba allowed another yawn to crack his jaw before slinging an arm over the shorter boy's shoulders. Shikamaru frowned at the contact, stiffening as Kiba allowed some of his weight to settle on the dark haired boy.

"So tired!" Kiba smiled crookedly, leaning into the shorter boy with exaggerated fatigue. Shikamaru sighed.

"Annoying." Shikamaru's comment went unnoticed in the midst of yet another yawn.

"Ah… I'll be glad to get home." A lazy smile stretched Kiba's mouth, eyes slipping half closed as he spoke. "You know…" His arm folded, bringing Shikamaru's body closer to his own. "Times like these... I have to agree with you about just laying around." Shikamaru hummed a response, a short noise of acknowledgement.

A soft whine from Akamaru called Kiba's attention away from his tired thoughts. Smiling, he reached down to pet the scruffy dog, fingers threading through wet fur, pulling Shikamaru with him as he leaned. The dark haired boy grumbled softly, but allowed himself to be pulled down with Kiba. Akamaru let out a growl of contentment, the soft scratching of Kiba's fingers pleasant in his matted fur. Kiba laughed softly and nodded toward the looming form of the Inuzuka home. Akamaru barked sharply and loped off, his claws clicking softly against the hard surface of the street as he hurried ahead of the two boys.

"He's just glad to be home." Kiba mumbled the words to Shikamaru. The dark haired boy merely nodded as the two made their way into the Inuzuka property.

Releasing his hold on Shikamaru, Kiba arched his back, stretched his arms up over his head in an attempt to relieve some of the tired stress from his muscles. Dropping his arms to his side in defeat, the feral boy sighed and trudged up the stairs at the back of his house, heavy footfall sounding against the steps. He glanced sideways at Shikamaru, crooked grin laced with hints of a childish pout. Akamaru flopped his large frame onto the porch at Shikamaru's feet, demanding attention from the dark haired boy. Kiba smiled as Shikamaru crouched to pet the dog; the latter's face oddly affectionate toward the Inuzuka dog.

"I'll be right back." Kiba slipped inside without waiting for acknowledgement.

The house was unusually quiet; the absence of growling dogs a welcome change from the noisy activity that usually flooded the home. Kiba slipped quickly out of his damp clothes, a worn pair of jeans replacing uncomfortably sodden pants, and made his way back to the front porch. At the door he stopped, his eyes scanning the hazy landscape; the late morning, sullen and grey, seemed to compliment his lethargic mood. His mind swam back to darker thoughts; birds calling shrilly as clouds rolled in with soft thunder, rain washing blood into thin rivers across the ground as the crows carried away Konoha's secrets. Kiba sighed and shook his head, trying to lose the thoughts.

Thunder cracked across the sky, the rumble sending vibrations through the ground, and a moment later, the sky opened up; the rain sudden and hard, poured down in a noisy hail of raindrops. The wind shifted momentarily, a cool spray of rain swept in to send cold beads of water across Kiba's skin. Chill bumps traced their way across Kiba's flesh, drawing him from his darker thoughts.

"Well, at least we made it here before it started raining, eh Akamaru?" Kiba crouched to shove the large dog away from Shikamaru before slumping down into the newly empty spot. "You've had enough of him, it's my turn." Kiba grinned teasingly at Akamaru. The large animal growled unhappily at the feral boy before slumping down against his hip, still wet fur darkening the fabric of Kiba's jeans with moisture.

"You don't bother to finish dressing?" Shikamaru's voice was disapproving.

"Eh?" Kiba glanced down at his shirtless torso and shrugged. "Well, it's warm enough…" Kiba scratched at his chest absently, nails drawing faint red lines across his skin. Shikamaru frowned and folded his arms across his chest as he slumped back against the wall.

Another light spray of rain blew across the porch, the mist falling across the lounging forms on the porch. Kiba glanced down to watch the moisture soak into the bottom of his jeans, a dark speckled pattern slowly forming against the faded blue. He folded his arms behind his head and leaned back, knuckles grazing the wall as he rested against the wood. Shikamaru, annoyed at the rain, pulled his legs up and crossed them, knee falling to rest against Kiba's thigh. The feral boy smiled at the nonchalance of the contact, allowed his eyes to slip closed.

"Ah, Akamaru, I think he's flirting." Kiba's voice was quiet, sleepy. Akamaru responded with a low sounding rumble; Kiba laughed softly at the sound.

"What are you talking about?" Shikamaru's voice conveyed his confusion.

"Nothing…" The feral teen flexed the muscle in his thigh, lifting his leg so that the contact was more apparent. He heard Shikamaru clear his throat uncomfortably, imagined the flustered look that would cross the dark haired boys face. Shikamaru shifted; the absence of contacting driving Kiba's eyes open. He glanced over at the dark haired boy and smiled crookedly, closed his eyes once again.

Drifting peacefully between sleep and wakefulness, Kiba concentrated on the sound of the rain, its hush lulling him into a restful peace. The rumble of thunder rocked the wooden planks of the porch softly; the feel reminded him of a contented growl echoing through the chest of a beast. The ebb and flow of his thoughts pushed against his consciousness like a tide, and Kiba allowed himself to drift in the daydream like state that seemed intent on pulling him beneath the surface.

Warmth settled against Kiba's thigh, the weight of Shikamaru's knee resting lightly against him. The feral boy remained still; content to wait as Shikamaru moved further into his territory. Gradually, the weight increased, and he could feel the dark haired boy settling comfortably, relaxing in the ease of Kiba's feigned sleep. To Kiba, it seemed that Shikamaru was much like the animal he was so named for, tentative and flighty, like a deer; comfortable even in the presence of a wolf, so long as the wolf remained still. Sometimes, the feral teen thought, it was an easier hunt when one let the prey come to him.

The rain pushed down in heavier strokes, clear rivulets of water streaming down in thick falls over the edge of the roof, racing to the ground below with enough throbbing force to dig small, muddy holes into the earth. The sound dragged Kiba from his tentative sleep, interrupted his contented rest on the porch. Drawing sleepy eyes open to the dim and cloudy noonday light, the feral boy eased dream from his mind and adjusted to wake. A mask, soulless eyes still and empty, hovered at the corner of his vision, still and unmoved past the blur of the heavy rain. A tenseness drew itself into Kiba's body, coiled in his stomach, as his eyes hung on the form.

The figure of the masked Shinobi seemed more a specter, a lingering memory, than a living being; it's stillness uncanny and it's silhouette so heavily obscured by the torrenting rain. Kiba turned his head slowly, eyes catching, still, on the mask, as he strained to focus his sleepy eyes. A blink sent the form, painted mask and all, into the swimming background; the shape drowned in the fall of the rain. For long moments, Kiba remained tense, staring into the rain, waiting for the Oinin to appear somewhere in his vision. He wondered if it had been a dream, or if he were called to duty again so soon.

"What is it?" Shikamaru's voice was drowsy. Kiba, startled, turned; his eyes meeting two dark orbs, sleepy, but curious. Kiba relaxed back against the wall, his skin scraping against the wood; Shikamaru allowed his calm stare to linger.

"I think one of my dreams followed me out for a minute." Kiba reached up to rub at his face, hands reddening his cheeks and eyes as he scrubbed away the last remnants of his nap. Shikamaru frowned, but said nothing. "I thought I saw someone." Kiba shrugged and dropped his hands to his lap, leaned toward Shikamaru until his head fell against the dark haired boy's shoulder.

"Ah, Akamaru, I think he's flirting." Kiba felt the subtle lift in Shikamaru's shoulder, punctuating the words, and a smile spread across his face; his lips drawing tight against his teeth.

"Did you just make a joke?" Kiba knitted his brows in confusion as he lifted his head, cocked it to the side to stare at Shikamaru. A soft laugh thrust in his chest at the strangeness of the dark haired boy's words. Shikamaru shrugged.

"Had to get your head off of my shoulder somehow." Kiba narrowed his eyes, studied the calm composure of Shikamaru's face.

"Well…" Kiba smiled, the curve of his lips almost sadistic in their angle, and shrugged to himself. His body rising to sit up fully, the feral boy repositioned himself on the porch, his posture relieved of the stress that had shadowed it only moments before. "other places to put my head…" The comment ended in a wink; the meaning of the words defined in the feral boy's actions as he turned and moved, positioning himself directly in front of the dark haired boy. A moment later Kiba leaned back, his body slumping to the floorboards as he rested his head in Shikamaru's lap; the warmth of the other's body warming the back of his neck and shoulders. "Better?"

"Infinitely." Kiba stared up at Shikamaru's frowning face, smiled brightly at the sarcastic venom in the younger boy's voice.

"Ah, well, this is definitely more comfortable." Kiba raised an eyebrow at his friend, crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

"Idiot." Shikamaru's comment went unnoticed.

"By the way…" Kiba cracked his eyes open, looked up at Shikamaru; the dark haired boy's eyes were already boring into his own. "I _am_ flirting." The feral teen watched a light blush paint itself onto Shikamaru's frowning face, watched his eyes dart away briefly, uncomfortably, before settling back; the awkwardness now absent.

"Idiot." Kiba ignored the painless insult and allowed his eyes to slip closed once more, focused his senses on the weather; the slowing pace of the rain as it trailed off, the rush of the wind as it buffered against the streaming water and the wood of the porch.

The low growl of a still sleeping Akamaru rumbled like an engine off to the side, and the smooth and silent breath of Shikamaru's lungs hid somewhere beneath the soft noises that hovered at the porch. A tentative tug pulled at Kiba's sleep, the fleeting feel of fingers tangling in his hair and then, nothing; he waited for the feeling again, wondered if it, too, were a dream. Again, fingers pulled through his hair, nails scraping softly against his skin, and the feral boy pushed a small growl of contentment out of his chest. Opening his eyes slowly, Kiba fixed his blurry sight on Shikamaru's face, watched as the dark haired boy's fingers steadily swept his hair back. The action bold and thoughtless, as if he were simply petting a sleeping dog.

"If you want me to kick my leg like a pup, you have to scratch my belly." Shikamaru frowned, drew his fingers back. A low hum of laughter shook Kiba's chest as another scowl worked it's way across the dark haired boy's face. Shifting, Kiba lifted his arms, threw them over his head and back, wrapping them around Shikamaru's waist. The feral boy smiled amusedly at the tension that stiffened his friend's posture, and locked his fingers behind the dark haired boy's back.

"What are you doing?" Kiba shrugged at the soft question, ignored Shikamaru's discomfiture.

"Getting more comfortable." Shikamaru snorted softly, shifted in Kiba's circle of arms as if trying to find a space there free of Kiba's touch.

"I have to go soon." The dark haired boy folded his arms across his chest as he spoke, his voice betraying the nervous tension he was attempting to dress as annoyance. A frown creased Kiba's features, drew the smile from his face.

"No. You aren't getting away so easy this time." The slight growl in Kiba's voice betrayed his displeasure, caused Shikamaru to tense. Kiba smirked, his lips curling into familiar mien, and tightened his arms about the dark haired boy as if he were a wolf tightening his jaws on his prey.

"Kiba…" Shikamaru's voice was uncomfortable, the following sigh, annoyed.

Releasing his grip, Kiba used his now free arms to reach for Shikamaru's frowning face. His fingers curled around the dark haired boys neck, threaded into the hair at the nape of the other's neck, and pulled the younger boy downward. Faces inches apart, Kiba narrowed his eyes, studied the unease that flitted in his friend's eyes. A quick, nervous breath puffed from between Shikamaru's lips, buffered against Kiba's face; the scent reminiscent of fear to the feral boy's heightened senses. Shikamaru's hands found the porch, fingers splayed against the surface for support; Kiba could hear his nails scratch softly against the wood. A crooked smile tugged at one corner of the feral boy's mouth, revealed one wolfish fang, before another tug of his arms brought Shikamaru's mouth against those smiling lips.

Soft warmth met Kiba's mouth, Shikamaru's lips still against his own; the feral boy fought the urge to devour the dark haired boy's mouth with the hunger that had suddenly taken hold deep in the pit of his stomach. Patience, Kiba realized, was not one of his virtues, but he held his ground; prolonged the stillness. Damp wind pushed in across the porch, drew moisture across his skin as he breathed; the wet patterns felt like cold fingers. Kiba lessened his grip on Shikamaru's neck, allowed the other to pull away until he found the dark haired boy's eyes with his own.

Shikamaru's face was traced in fine lines of anger; his brow creased, pale lips drawn in a tight line. Kiba allowed his amusement to play in his features, chewed at one side of his lip as he stared up at the dark haired boy; Shikamaru's expression deepened, but he did not pull away. Curious, the feral boy tugged gently at the younger boy's neck; there was no resistance. Another gentle pull brought Shikamaru's face closer still, and Kiba allowed a small puff of breathy laughter to escape his chest. The dark haired boy's eyes narrowed, his expression softening as his tongue darted out to moisten frowning lips. Shikamaru bent of his own accord, slowly closing the gap between them, and pressed his lips softly against Kiba's; the timid meeting eliciting more annoyance than excitement in the feral boy's state. Kiba brought his mouth against Shikamaru's with force, teeth clicking against the other boy's, and impatiently drew the dark haired boy into a more energetic kiss. Kiba left nothing of romance in the gesture, instead pushing deeper into unbridled lust as Shikamaru began to respond.

Sore mouths broke apart minutes later, breath chipping at each other's bruised lips. Kiba smiled wolfishly up at Shikamaru, slid his hand from neck to chin, and used his thumb to stroke the younger boy's lips in a parody of gentleness. Shikamaru frowned, his flushed face drawn and confused.

"You bit me." Shikamaru's words were calm, betrayed nothing more than irritation. The feral boy smirked in response, watched with satisfaction as the younger boy chewed softly at a small split in his lip.

"Mine." Kiba nearly growled the word, the statement, an echo of the possessive declaration that he had made some nights before. Shikamaru snorted softly, wrapped his hands around Kiba's wrists and drew them from about his neck.

Wiping at the wetness that trailed his chest in patches, Kiba settled himself again in the dark haired boy's lap, shifted comfortably against the now relaxed form beneath him. The rain still rushed down to earth in fat torrents, it's heavy fall tearing at the once placid surface of the spring, digging muddy holes into the soft grassy earth. The storm, however, had drifted off, leaving only the rain in it's wake, the steady rumble of thunder almost too distant to notice. The noonday light grew brighter, despite the downpour, as the hours wore on; the darker storm clouds replaced with lighter rain clouds that allowed the white glow of the sun to filter through.

The wet weather that had exhausted and sobered Kiba only hours before, now brought him to repose, drew him into a more languid sentiment, and yet choked him with a hunters passion. The feral boy, however, simply lounged; belly half-full of self-satisfaction, as if will dinner, and tried to practice more of the patience that had won him the younger boy's momentary submission. Shikamaru's face, still stoic, hovered above, head tilted back to gaze sightless at the ceiling; arms thrown back to support his recline. Reaching over his head once again, Kiba slid his hands beneath the loose shirt that draped over Shikamaru's frame, fingers trailing soft skin and grazing prominent ribs as they moved further beneath the cloth. Shikamaru drew a breath, held it; his body still and muscles tightened against the touch.

"Kiba… Don't." The words were clipped. Kiba raised his eyebrows, curled his fingers until his nails scratched at the warm pliable skin beneath them. Shikamaru remained unmoving, quiet.

"Stop me, then." Shikamaru said nothing as Kiba's fingers continued their assault.

A break in the rain brought a breeze; ripe with the scent of fresh earth and something more subtle. Kiba drew his hands to a stop suddenly, stilled his entire body as he investigated the strangely familiar scent that had carried in on the air. Shikamaru shifted uncomfortably in the pause, his breath hitching nervously as he detected the tension in the older boy's motionless form. Kiba let out a soft hiss, begging silence and stillness from the dark haired boy. The wind pushed in again, stirred Kiba's bangs; the feral boy narrowed his eyes, used his foot to wake Akamaru from his sleep. The large dog cracked his eyes open without moving, let out a nearly silent growl. Kiba nodded, returned the growl with one of his own, and tapped his foot against the beast again. A moment later, Akamaru disappeared into the rain, his feet silent against the wet ground.

"We're being watched." Kiba kept his voice hushed, low, as he glanced up to connect eyes with Shikamaru. The dark haired boy nodded, aware of the presence. The feral boy watched the play of thought in the dark haired boy's eyes curiously, hunting for the thoughts behind the unaffected expression.

A short howl melted through the sound of the rain, echoed against the walls of the porch. Kiba growled low in his chest, his breath rattling out noisily as his eyes slipped closed in resignation. He knew what it was that disturbed his rest; the shadowy figure that had haunted the edge of his vision all day since his return to Konoha. The masked Shinobi, doubtless, waited in the edge of the trees, ready to steal more of his peace and sanity. Kiba drew himself up quickly from the other's lap, crouched low at the edge of the porch ,and glanced toward Shikamaru. The dark haired boy narrowed his eyes, nodded his understanding. Kiba ducked his head once at the younger boy before he slipped silently into the sheeting rain, slitted eyes dark with irritation.

The rain, cold against Kiba's skin, ran in rivers down his bare back as he pushed his way through the heavy fall of water to find Akamaru. Kiba fought to see past the haze as he ran, his concentration only faltering as he shoved his dripping bangs from his face; the gesture rife with annoyance and anxiety. Akamaru waited patiently, hackles up, just inside the edge of the forest; a low growl greeted Kiba as he arrived.

The empty eyes of an Oinin mask stared out from the obscuring rain, bored into Kiba's own. He greeted the Oinin in proper fashion, narrowed his eyes against the rain in an attempt to better see the fellow hunter. As if in a dream, the haunting call of birds seemed to echo in his head as the Oinin stretched out his hand to Kiba; a wooden tube wrapped tightly in his fingers. The proffered scroll, no doubt, detailed yet another mission that would draw Kiba's mood onto solemn ground and take him away from home for more long days of hunting and death. The feral boy took the scroll obediently and ducked his head in a bow; when he raised his head, the Oinin was gone.


End file.
